


Weight of a Soul

by harleygirl2648



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Demonic Possession, Dialogue Heavy, Exorcisms, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Heartache, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 02:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16484660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleygirl2648/pseuds/harleygirl2648
Summary: “How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men--even if there are monsters in it.”― Bram Stoker, DraculaJohn Constantine is pretty firm at not feeling anything serious towards Gary, better for the both of them that way in his mind. But demonic possession brings out things that he'd rather keep hidden.





	Weight of a Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentMaryMargaretSkitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMaryMargaretSkitz/gifts).



> All for you, Kate! This was our idea and it has been GNAWING at me for days, so I had to write it. Hope you enjoy the little teaser at the top! :)
> 
>  
> 
> To all other readers, hello! I hope you enjoy this fic, I had fun writing it!

“I consider that another success,” Sara announced to all of the Legends as they boarded the Waverider again after their mission.

Gary agreed with her. “Yeah, stopped that undead monster, and now we now why 1816 was the year without a summer! Evil wizard, cool! Except, the - murder, part,” he added sheepishly.

“Any updates to the time stream, Gideon?” Zari asked, picking up a leftover bag of Cheetos.

“All is well,” Gideon chirped, “Although scholars have uncovered a new poem by Lord Byron with quite a bit of fire imagery.”

Mick raised the beer he acquired from - somewhere. “That’s me.”

Ray looked surprised, then not. “Oh…..THAT’S why you traded your lookout shift with Nate.”

Constantine scoffed behind a cigarette. “And you’re the bright one, ain’t ya?”

“Brit’s just jealous it wasn't him.”

“Poetry doesn’t do much for me, Crumpet.”

“That's enough!” Ava declared, moving in between them. “Let’s not do a he-said-she-said, we had a job well done. Focus on that.”

John blew the smoke up at the ceiling. “Got a scotch with my name on it, focusing on that, pet,” he laughed, heading to his room.

 

 

Neither he nor anyone else noticed the black matter that had snuck onboard with them.

 

 

John was only a shot into his bottle before there was a knock at the door. “For the last time, mate, I don’t feel like Monop- hello there, squire,” he grinned, changing his tone when the door opened. Gary, per usual, blushed just a little bit, fiddling with something in his hands.“What's that you got there?”

Gary looked down. “Oh! It’s - it’s a _hamsa_ , got it from my aunt at my bar mitzvah, for good luck, protection, all - all that, yeah. I just like to carry it my pocket, good luck and all - that.”

John laughed, pouring Gary a shot. “To luck, then.” Gary laughed and took it along with him, easier now that they were comfortable with each other.

It wasn’t like - _serious._

 _They_ weren't - serious _._

It was mostly flirting _(mostly John)_ , conversations _(started nervously by Gary or confidently by John),_ some missions _(usually not together, but it was something)_ , or pretty heavy making out after D&D sessions that sometimes got all the way to third base _(again, usually started by John except for that one time where Gary might’ve drank too much)_ but they weren’t - _serious._

It was fine with Gary. Totally, totally fine.

“Do you want to go out this Saturday?” Gary blurted out, then folded his arms across his chest and shrugging a little in an attempt at nonchalance. John raised an eyebrow over his next shot.

“What's this Saturday?”

“Uhhh - nothing, really. Could just - go out, or - hang out. At my place. Like a - date?”

John’s smile had a tinge of sadness to it as he poured out more scotch. “Can’t, squire.”

Gary’s demaneor dampened a little bit. “Oh, I - that’s okay, no problem. Maybe - another time?”

John sighed, setting his glass down to take his coat off. “Sorry, mate, can’t.”

“Oh.” The ‘why not’ was there, even if he didn’t say it out loud, so John did him a favor and answered him.

“Listen, squire, I’ve seen pretty nasty things happen to myself and people around me. I - make it a point to not make it serious.”

Gary nodded, biting his lip, and John explained himself further, “Just- guy like you, mate, don’t need getting mixed up too deep with the likes of me. Much too bright for all that.”

“That make sense,” Gary nodded back, even if he - really, really didn’t like that answer. John sent him a smile, one he always had for him, one that he always had to return. John turned around to get his lighter from the bedside table, and neither noticed the black matter seeping out from under the door.

Gary noticed, however, when he looked past John’s shoulder from the back, and when his mouth opened in confusion, it flooded inside of his mouth and nose and he felt his eyes roll back, _all_ the way back before rolling forward again.

John turned back to him. “Sticking around, mate?”

Gary’s lips spread into a teasing smirk that was new. “I’d love to, buuuut, I just can't right now. Maybe later?”

“On your way,” John nodded, lighting another cigarette and then paying attention to his scotch bottle. He wasn't looking when Gary started twitching, pulling the _hamsa_ out of his pocket and dropping it on the floor with the softest hiss, fleeing the room.

 

 

A week later, Ava and Gary met the Legends on board the ship.

“Something is wrong,” Ava stated to the Legends, arms folded. At last she checked, Gary was sat quietly beside her with his legs folded and head tilted to the side. “The Bureau’s experienced nothing but bad luck for the entire week, including unexplained ev- where the hell is Constantine, G- _where’d Gary go?”_ She shook her head. “He’s been like this all week. I’m telling you, there is something strange going on back at headquarters.

 

 

Gary, meanwhile, had slipped into John’s room with barely a sound or word. John looked up from his spellbook with the same charming smile. “Always a pleasure, squire.”

“I know,” Gary smiled back, moving so he was close to him. Almost - _too_ close. “You’re glad to see me?”

“Always am.”

Gary’s mouth turned into a small, teasing pout as he kicked at the floor, “Then why don’t you show me?” he said sweetly, inching closer until he could have been in his lap if he took one more step.

John raised an eyebrow, getting to his feet and standing before him. “That right?”

“I _mean-”_ Gary sighed, dragging it out, but grinning. “It’d be nice if you showed me. Wouldn’t it?” He leaned in closer and closer, and the smile on John’s face faded faster and faster, gone when their lips met. Gary pouted again when he pulled away. “You don’t like me?”

John’s eyes turned cold, keeping him back with a hand. “You should have had a mint, mate, at least tried to cover up the sulfur and brimstone.”

Gary’s mouth turned down into a frown, his eyes narrowing and John took the initiative and moved him to the corner, blocking his path with a desk and chair. That gave him enough time to gather up some herbs and run out the door, and it slid shut behind him.

“Dearie,” he addressed Gideon, rubbing his temple. “Keep that thing shut, would ya?”

“Understood.”

He was halfway to the bridge when he heard the metal door _scrrrrrrape_ open and Gary run past him.

Oh no.

Ava was in the middle of giving the Legends a breakdown of the weird occurances at Time Bureau, everything from items disappearing too weird sounds all the way to occasional screams when she worked late at night. She didn’t notice Gary walk onto the bridge at first, but when she died, he was holding his gun and staring straight ahead. “Gary, what are you doing?”

He stepped forward, eyes completely dead.

“Gary, what the hell are you doing?” she repeated, annoyed. “Answer me.”

He lifted the gun up and now was when the worry started to wash over her. “....Gary, put that down. I’m serious, put it-”

 **BANG** and she was hit in the shoulder and Ray being Ray ran up to Gary and wrestled the gun away from him, only to be grabbed and thrown into the opposite wall.

A voice that wasn’t completely Gary’s came out of his mouth as his neck cracked the wrong way.

_“You’re all going to die.”_

And with that, he fell completely limp to the floor and did not get up.

Ava breathed out in a shudder as Sara pressed her towel to the wound on her shoulder. Ray was the first to move, even before John, going over to where Gary was not moving and gently nudging him. No response.

He looked up, looking at a - loss for what to do. “What do - what should we-”

“We need rope,” John said, suddenly breaking the silence of the room. “Get him in a chair, and - now, hurry it up, will you?”

“Wh- here?”

“Not in this room, need - a smaller room, got to contain it, don’t just stand there.”

Gary ended up being taken to the brig, into a small cell and set on a chair. Ava started tying the ropes around him, slowly, before John abruptly took them from her, tightening them hard and fast, until they were so tight the skin turned white and slightly red where the fibers touched the skin.

“John, you’re going to hurt-”

John wasn’t even listening to her, moving her back away from the chair. Gary hadn’t moved once.

“Just hush up a second, pet,” he said lowly, before approaching the chair and speaking to the unconscious Gary. “Wake up, now.” Still no movement. Something shifted in John’s face, something like anger, and leaned closer to his ear. He spoke just loud enough that Ava could hear his hissed words:

“It’s John Constantine, you bastard. I’m here. Speak.”

Now there was a laugh coming from Gary’s body, visible through his shaking, as though his larynx was being shaken manually.

“There you are,” John muttered, taking another rope and wrapping it around Gary’s left wrist until it was encased in thick rope and securely attached it to the armrest. He instructed Sara standing by the door to do the same with the right wrist and, and the laughter didn’t stop as she did so. It didn’t stop until John touched Gary’s neck, and his head was thrown back like he was electrified. His eyes were completely black behind his glasses before they faded back to the normal brown shade. They held an icy stare instead of the usual warmth, even as a thin smile remained.

“John Constantine,” he said in an even, smooth tone.

No emotion was present in John’s face. “There you are,” he repeated.

“Are you happy to see me again?”

John didn’t respond to that, and - the voice, it was Gary’s voice but it _wasn’t,_ spoke again, sweet as anything, “Untie these ropes, please.”

John got down to crouch at the level of the chair, “Mate, you and I both know you can slip out of these nice and easy if you want out.”

“You like a vulgar demonstration, John, I remember. No.”

“Come on, humor me. Slip out of these ropes and stand up.”

“I want you to untie me, John.”

“Not happening.”

“It _willlllll,”_ Gary said, voice turning into a low growl at the end of the last word, tilting his head back and forth.

“Listen, I’m gonna ask you very politely, get out of there. Only time I’ll be polite.”

“Always impatient. No. I won’t.”

John swallowed once, voice growing colder. “Now where is he?”

“In _hereeee_. You can talk to him when you untie us.”

“...No.”

“They’re too tight, he’s uncomfortable. Come on, untie us, John.”

John’s face hardened again. “Absolutely not. You want out, get yourself out.”

Gary’s eyes briefly switched to solid black again before returning to the normal shade, mouth twitching into a frown. He tried moving in the chair, but the ropes were too tight, and he couldn’t. Then, he turned his head to look at Sara, and a smile appeared.

_“Sara.”_

Sara clapped her hands over her mouth and her eyes shot wide open as Laurel’s voice came out of Gary’s mouth.

_“Sara, untie me, please. It’s too tight. Don’t you want to see me again, Sara? Please get me out, and you can see me again.”_

_"It's not real," John told her in a stern voice that was trying to be comforting._

Sara took half a step closer, angry tears brimming in her eyes. “Shut - shut up.”

Gary’s voice went back to - mostly his own. “I can leave a message for her, Sara. Do you want to talk to her?”

Sara didn’t answer, forcing her jaw to remain tight, but then Gary’s voice shifted again.

_“Sara, honey.”_

Sara’s fingers gripped the handle of her knife until her knuckles turned white, matching her pale face. “Dad?”

_“Honey, untie me, please. Haven’t seen you in so long, come here, c’mon.”_

Sara took another step before covering her eyes with her free hand, turning away. “No.”

_“Sara.” “Sara.”_

The two voices mingling together was finally too much, and Sara turned around, ready to strike Gary in the face before Ava pulled her back, and she started to cry, covering her face again.

John softened a little, touching her shoulder before pulling back. “Go,” he said gently. “Neither of you need to be in here. Come on now, I’ll - handle it.”

“John-”

“Done it before, a few times, get out of here - please.”

She nodded, keeping Sara close to her shoulder and turned away, leading them out of the cell and the door closed behind them. John turned back.

“Are you satisfied? We’re alone now.”

Gary’s head tilted to the left, then straightened again. “I’ll be satisfied when you untie me, John.”

“It won’t happen, bub. Now, either exit this body or I’ll pull you out myself.”

A too-wide grin spread across Gary’s face, and he laughed out loud. “Are you going to hurt us?”

“I said, I’m going to pull you out of there myself if you don’t move.”

The chair shifted to the right before moving back. There was no difference.

“Fine,” John sneered at him, picking a bag of mullein out of his pocket and approaching him. The smile slipped off of Gary’s face quickly, fading into a deep snarl. He snarled out loud as a dusting was sprinkled in his hair, going into convulsions as some was rubbed around the entire base of his neck. But when John managed to force his head back enough to sprinkle some herb into his mouth, Gary gagged and coughed until black liquid came out of his mouth and onto John’s face, sending him back a little in shock.

Gary sat up, cracking his neck one way and then the other way, his gaze hard but glittering. Constantine returned the gaze. “How long you planning to be in there, mate?”

The smile was back on Gary’s face, dripping in black spit. He growled through the smile, “Until it I’m finished or it rots.”

John reached in his pocket for the Zanzibar drops when he heard the sound of some - cracking. When he looked up in alarm, the ropes were tightening around Gary. They were taut across his chest and hands and getting tighter and tighter.

“What - are you doing?”

Gary didn’t answer, nothing but a blank stare back at him until the ropes were so taught they were cutting into his skin. Blood started to dot the front of his pressed white shirt from the friction and drip from his wrists before his face was scrunching up in pain like his old self, and he was biting his tongue as the cuts got deeper.

“What are you doing?” John demanded again, needing an answer even if he didn’t want to know it.

Gary rocked back and forth in the chair until the front of his shirt was covered in worn-away small holes and starting to become covered all over in blood, and he was starting to hyperventilate.

“What are y- Gary, Gary! Listen to me, calm down, can you hear me?” John stammered, standing right in front of the chair and put hands on his shoulders to try and calm him down. The rest of the Legends were gathered outside the cell to watch.

Ava was holding Sara and comforting her, but she feel useless, sitting back and watching her number two go through literal hell.

“...alright, I promise, mate, be alright,” John hushed in as soothing a voice as he could as the ropes were slicing through his skin and the anguish was all over his face. He wasn’t even screaming, he was about to chew through his tongue he was trying to keep quiet. Honestly, that hurt John almost as much as his pain. It wouldn’t be long before the ropes cut down to the bone.

Suddenly, Gary looked up at John, grin and black eyes back on his face.

“Wanna wager, John? You like doing that, don’t you?” he laughed, thrashing about in the chair.

“Bastard,” John hissed, running a hand down the side of his face before collecting himself. “What do you want, then? My soul?”

The laughter that came out of Gary was piercing, and items on the hallway walls started rattling. With black ooze still dripping from his mouth, Gary scoffed, “Your soul isn't worth the _slime_ it’s made of, John Constantine. You think it compares to this one? You think I'd trade a soul like this one for one like yours? This one is **MINE**!” he shrieked, and the lights flickered.

John took a deep breath. “Then tell me what you do want.”

Gary’s head cocked back to the left, then the right. “I’ll make you a deaaaaal, John,” he sang in a too cheery tone. “I’ll count to ten and if you can keep that mouth shut for that long, I’ll let him go. _Deaaaaaal?”_

John swallowed, then forced a glare out. “Fine. Deal. To ten.”

“To ten,” Gary grinned, wiggling all of his fingers at him. He raised his left pinky finger, and all of the Legends and John watched it break at a right angle.

This time, Gary did scream, a burst of one, before quieting like he was trying to hold it back.

One.

The left ring finger also broke at the same angle, and there was another scream.

Two.

“St-stop,” Gary said in a weaker voice, but his real voice. “Just - stop, I’ll - I’ll do what you w- no,” he said in a firmer voice, “I - I won’t d-” He ground his back teeth in a hiss as the ropes cut through the skin on his wrists more. “Just stop,” he said in a softer voice as his right pinky finger started to bend back. At that, John - couldn’t take it.

“That’s enough!” he shouted, and for a second, it was peaceful.

Then, the finger broke and Gary screamed again. And John stared, wide eyed, as the next finger started to bend.

“No, I told you to stop!” he yelled as Gary’s eyes rolled up and rolled down black. He laughed as he looked up at him.

“You loooooooose, John Constantine,” Gary mocked him. “It’s **mine,** now. You _always_ find good ones. I’m going to _tear this one apart_ and let you have the _pelt_ when I’m done with it.” And then the next finger started bleeding again and Gary started shrinking, but fighting against the ropes just cut into him even deeper, and Sara was putting herself back together and preparing with Ava to charge inside the cell and then Gary was screaming, screaming more as crack was heard inside his chest-

And then John was kneeling down beside the chair, eyes on Gary’s, and produced a knife from a pocket inside his coat. He was dead silent as he cut through the ropes on his body, and silent as he cut through the ropes on his arms.

“What is he-” Ray started to ask but Sara shushed him.

John stood up, pulling Gary to his feet as well, and looked him over. He looked- well, like an absolute wreck, with blood and ripped fabric every which way on him. He didn’t move any closer to Gary, not wanting to even think of it, considering he was the reason this had even happened to him.

"Do whatever you want with me," he muttered at barely human register for sound. "Alright? Let 'im go, now."

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he turned to see Gary there, smiling in that soft, shy way, exhausted, but relieved. He smiled back at him, and opened his mouth to ask how he felt, when Gary’s smile just grew, wider and wider as his eyes got darker and darker.

John’s heart sunk like a stone, so sudden that it wasn’t until after it happened that he realized Gary had knocked him to the ground and was kneeling on top of him, grinning and black ooze dripping from his mouth onto his face.

“You looooooose, John Constantine,” he hissed. John ignored his heart beating faster and faster, and instead stared up at him and uttered a single word:

**_“Talvannas.”_ **

Gary’s eyes went completely black and his lips curled back into an angry snarl, bringing his hands down around John’s neck and squeezing hard. John coughed, croaking out, “I know your name. Talvan-”

He was cut off completely by the hands tightening even more around his neck, at the snarling getting louder, and everything goes fuzzy around the edges. And then he was let go, and he took deep, gasping breaths. He sat up, still coughing, and saw Nate and Nick struggling to hold onto Gary, thrashing against their grasp. His heart was beating too loud, blood rushing in his ears as he heard the trail end of Ava talking as they dragged Gary out “-get him to the headquarters, off the ship, get him confine-”

Oh no.

John scrambled to his feet, shook his head to get his bearings, and ran down the hall after them, following until he saw them at the bridge. They were trying to disembark, and Gary wouldn’t move.

“What are you- just - pull harder,!” Ava shouted, pulling on Gary’s arm as well. John reached them just to see his entire body go white and bruising appear on his arms and cheeks, watching him scream louder as he thrashed.

Gideon’s alarms went off, and her voice sounded loud even over the screaming: “Agent Green’s heart rate is slowing dramatically.”

John finally yanked himself out of his daze, shoving the closest one, Nate, away from Gary. “He won’t let him leave,” he said, matter-of-fact.

“What do you mean?” Ava demanded, sounding frantic as she tried to hold onto Gary’s arm.

“He’ll kill him if we take him off the ship,” John stated. “He - he has to stay here. Have to make do with what we can-”

Gary thrashed again, and again, until he put a hand against Mick’s chest and shoved him hard enough to send him into the wall, doing the same to Ava before sprinting away. Ray, coming back with a towel and cool water, set them down and reached out for Gary, managing to almost corner him. But then Gary struck him hard across the face with a shriek, then scampering up the wall. The Legends all stood, stunned, watching him hiss and shriek as he crawled up the wall, to the ceiling, and then out of the room.

Ava dragged a hand across her face, breathing out and sounding tired before turning to Constantine. “Okay, what do we d-”

“I don’t _know_ yet, pet, don’t - don’t ask right now,” John snapped at her before thinking, then turned away. “I’m - I’m trying to think.”

“Don’t you - you’ve done exorcisms b-”

“This one knows the tricks, that's the issue,” he muttered, rubbing his sore neck. He stormed off before Java could ask further questions, waving a hand behind him. “Lockdown, keep him out of hard-to-reach spots. Don’t lose him.”

He escaped back to his room on the ship, noting the force used to open the door beforehand, he forcibly shut it himself and fell onto the bed. He loosened the tie, muttering to himself in anger. It was his fault this was happening! If he had just - he KNEW this would happen, had told Gary this very thing. He was too dark, too dangerous to be around.

_Your soul is nothing compared to his._

And hell, if that wasn’t true in the worst way imaginable.

He kept his face in his hands, hearing more yelling and animalistic sounds and scratching from the walls. It was all his goddamn fault and he was the one that deserve that pain, not Gary.

His foot brushed against something on the floor, and he looked down to see he was on top of Gary’s hamsa, still on its little keychain.

He picked it up, almost afraid to touch something that was of so much importance to him. All the curves of the glass and the slightly chipped paint because of being carried so much. He fell back heavily on his back, still holding it, and looked up at the ceiling.

The first thing he noticed was the fire device. It wouldn’t dispense water on a ship made of electronic devices, it would be - powder.

Powder.

He shot straight up in the bed, putting the hamsa in his pocket and grabbing two packs of dried garlic and clove and raced out into the hallway, finding Nate on his way after the others. “Mate, I need your grinder.”

“Uhhh - I don’t know what you-”

“Not now, we haven’t got time, you take the other tall one and take these-” he thrust his bags into his hands and hurriedly gave him the rest of the instructions before nearly tackling Zari.

“Woah, breathe,” she told him, steadying him with a hand, he waved it off. “Did you come up with-”

“Get some things for me, alright, I’m going to calm him down. Get me a hammer, a rag, and a mirror, now.” Zari nodded, running to get them as John ran the other way, towards the screaming coming from the kitchen.

He was met with Sara pulling Gary off of Ava as he attempted to sink one of the knives into her chest. Once she had her footing, she put her hands on Gary’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

“Gary,” she pleaded in as gentle a voice as she could, “Gary, listen to me, we’re trying to help-”

His eyes rolled back before rolling forward again, grin wide and manic. His head turned to where John was at the door before smirking. “He’s gooooone, now."

“Shut up,” Ava snapped, attempting to turn his head and getting backhanded by him instead, which then freed him from Sara’s grip momentarily.

Gideon’s voice came over the commotion. “Mr. Palmer states he is ready, Mr. Constantine.”

“Thanks, love,” John sighed, slamming his fist into the emergency button and watched the fire-extinguishing powder fall all over the kitchen, Ava, Sara, and Gary. Gary stood, looking stunned, then let out a howl as he clawed at his skin to Ava’s horror.

“What did you-”

“Clove and garlic, cheapest herbs to perform exorcisms, pet,” John stated. “Now, get him, bring him into the bridge, I need space.”

Sara and Ava each took an arm, blood and black ooze and powder covering all three of them as they dragged him to the bridge, meeting John and everyone else there. With only a slight bit of hesitation, John accepted him from them both. “Everyone, get a rag,” he ordered, picking up the hammer. Gary’s eyes darted to the mirror, and it fell to its side, cracking into several pieces. John breathed out, visibly annoyed and looking more and more desperate, putting his hand down on a chair. “Any of you lot squeamish, best not look.”

“What do you-” Nate started, and swallowed his words when John brought the hammer down on two fingers of his left hand, then onto one on his right hand. He choked through his teeth at the pain, but it was a part of the process.

The powder was starting to wear off, and he didn’t have anymore herbs on him, so unrolled a clove cigarette and dropped it over him. Gary convulsed once as John _stepped_ over him. “Alright, let him go.”

“Neverrrrrr,” he growled, slamming his head back against the hard floor. “It's all mine, too strong for you, Constantine.”

_Too strong. That’s why he wouldn’t leave Gary for someone else in the room. He’s too strong._

“Let me talk to him.”

“You want to say _goodbyeee_ , don’t you?” he laughed, rolling on the floor before John rolled him back. “Nooooooo, don’t think so.”

John removed his knife from his pocket, making a cut at the base of his neck and letting the blood flow. He smeared it into a sigil on the floor, his eyes starting to glow. He stepped into the center of the sigil. “Here. Here, take me instead,” he ordered. “You can use me, get out of him.”

Gary slowly sat all the way up from the floor, every vertebrae making a _crack_ sound until he was sitting up fully. Something black started to pour from his mouth, almost like a combination of a liquid and a steam, up towards John, as John muttered incantations over and over as his hands glowed. The black matter reached just in front of John’s eyes before suddenly it all reversed back into Gary’s mouth, throwing him back against the floor hard, then laughing hysterically. “You loooooooose, you can’t make me give it up!” He grabbed his own arm and dragged his nails across it, making him bleed and cry out again.

And well, John didn’t really have a backup plan right off the top of his head. The mirror was in pieces, and frankly, Talvannas wasn’t about to leave Gary for anything or anyone else.

He was lost, and since he needed to buy time to think, he knelt down beside Gary, removing the _hamsa_ from his pocket. He placed it on his chest.

When that happened, Gary convulsed hard on the ground again, and some of the black matter came out in a cough before he fell back. His eyes shifted to normal, if not exhausted, and John’s heart seized up before he could realize it.

“Gary?” he asked softly.

Gary’s voice was frantic. “It’s coming back, it’s coming back, you scared it off but it’s coming back up, I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“I - we’re trying our best, lo- squire, come on, take some breaths, we’re-”

“You can’t get it out,” Gary whispered harshly. “I can hear, I know you can’t.”

John’s heart sank to his feet again, “I’m - I’m t-”

“I know- it’s coming back, it’s in my spine, I can-” he coughed again, wrenching his head back and squeezing his eyes closed before opening them again, bright and shiny, gasping out once. “Get me out.”

“I’m trying to get it o-”

“No, no, no, no, g-g-get me, _me_ , **ME** , out. Now.”

And ever so slowly, but finally, a grin spread across John’s face as he put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed ever so lightly. “You - bloody damn genius, Gary.”

Gary let out an exhausted laugh, present for just a few moments, before his eyes started to close and roll back again. John sprang up to his feet. “Two mirror pieces, now. Crumpet, get a fire started.”

Mick grumbled but started on a small fire right in the middle of the room, and Zari passed John the mirror pieces. “Now, all you lot, tie those around your eyes. Be blind. No matter what happens, don’t take them off until I say so. Otherwise, you’ll start to lose your soul, or worse, you’ll bugger it all up.”

They all looked wary, but did so as Gary started growling and moving on the floor again. With materials all set up and the team blindfolded, he moved back to the task at hand.

“Open your eyes,” Gary muttered, seemingly to himself, shaking his head. “No, I won’t.”

“Open them!”

“No!”

He thrashed on the floor, with his broken bones and fingers cracking. “Constantine, if he doesn't open his eyes, I’ll break his neck.”

Constantine positioned himself behind Gary’s head, holding a shard of mirror over his eyes. “Let’s open those eyes, now.”

Gary, damn his grace, valiantly refused to until the very last second, selling the charade. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes. A translucent liquid/smoke hybrid floated out from his nostrils and to the mirror, and his eyes reflected back. John quickly put that shard aside as the body in front of him started to shake. This time, the voice coming out of Gary’s mouth was not Gary’s.

“What - what’s happening?” came a growl. John smirked down at the black eyes before him.

“You wouldn’t let me take you out, Talvannas.” A hiss at the name. “Get used to hearing your name, Talvannas, because it’s just you in there right now, mate.”

The body convulsed like it had been electrocuted. “See there, you ain’t got a soul to latch onto now, do ya?”

This time the convulsion was weaker, John held him down, muttering the demon’s name over and over during the incantation. At the last word, he grabbed the other shared and held it over his face.

“Now take a good look at yourself, Talvannas.”

The demon’s real face and form showed in the mirror before more black mass splashed against the mirror before it sank all the way inside. He set it down, taking the other and placing it over the eyes and mouth, muttering a spell even as exhaustion started to take over. He didn’t stop reciting until Gary’s breathing was steady, only then did he remove the mirror. Then he himself could breathe when he saw Gary’s soft, tired, brown eyes staring back.

Tapping sounds came from the mirror shard. “Oy! Take the blindfolds off!” John called out, grabbing the throbbing shard and rushing to the fire. He threw it in just as everyone could see again, and the mirror melted with a shattering scream before sweet, sweet silence.

“Gary!” Ava blurted out in worry, rushing over to him and gasping in relief at the small movements he made. She looked back up at John, about to thank him but he moved back and forth on his feet like he was going to-

He rubbed his temple, waving his hand. “All - all clear, all clean, ‘s all fine.”

With that, he promptly passed out on the bridge floor surrounded by herbs, blood, and Legends.

 

 

Three weeks later

 

Gary Green had been put through emotional and physical and frankly, literal hell, yet as soon as he woke up from being asleep for 36 straight hours the first thing he said was an apology to Ava for backhanding her. Such an upstanding, pure thing to say and John pretended he was still out cold. Thankfully, even if Gideon seemed to not be that fond of him (yet, he always said yet) she didn’t give him away. Ava filled him in on posts in his memory that he didn’t have, adn John kept his eyes closed even when he heard - “So, is he okay?”

“Complained to Gideon that he was fine and didn’t need to be here, she’s going to let him move tonight.”

“Oh. That’s - good.”

John tuned the rest of the conversation out, even when he heard his name mentioned. He moved out of the medbay and only stopped by to see him the four days Gideon had him stay at night when he was asleep. And after being healed and given medical leave, he couldn't bring himself to go see him.

It wasn’t that he was AVOIDING Gary, he wasn't. It was just - he was always busy whenever he and Ava stopped by. It was meditating, or reading, or not on board, or just - unavailable, alright? “You understand that, dearie?”

“I will relay to Agent Green that you do not wish to see him, yes,” Gideon replied.

“NO, that’s not what I said!” John snapped up at the ceiling. “Bloody hell.”

“I see. What message would you like me to send, Mr. Constantine?”

“None at all.”

“Very well, I will inform him you wish to have no communication with him for the time being.”

“Again, not getting it,” John said through his teeth.

“My apologies. Perhaps you should tell him yourself, so the intent of your message is very clear.”

“Aren’t you cheeky,” he muttered, sitting back on the bed. As soon as he was situated and comfortable with a cigarette, however, she spoke again.

“Mr. Constantine, I neglected to inform you that you have a package sent from the Bureau.”

He groaned, dragging himself up from the bed and retrieving it, finally coming back to the room and dropping on the bed, tearing it open with a knife. Inside was a note, written on Time Bureau stationary. It was perfect, neat writing with Gary’s little signature at the end. A simple thank-you note, like John had given him a new jacket for a birthday or something, but also: “Thank you for not letting a demon have control of my body until it actually fell apart.”

Also included were a pack of his favorite brand of cigarettes, and - whiskey chocolates, which actually got John to smile. But after he lifted the box of cigarettes up to smoke one, he found a smaller box underneath. Curious, he picked it up and lifted off the top.

It was - a much smaller _hamsa_ than Gary’s, this one colored blue instead of green. He paused, holdin it in his palm for a moment, considering - everything.

Abruptly, he put it in his pocket and put the cigarette in his mouth before slipping his coat on. “Gideon, poppet, be a dear and let the captain know I’m going out tonight.”

“Where will you be if you need to be reached?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he smirked, lighting the cigarette as he walked out. “I’m out your wires a bit, enjoy that.”

He left the Waverider without another word spoken to anyone, per usual.

 

 

John Constantine didn’t do _plans_ , per se. Not long term ones. Hell, hardly short term ones. What were his plans, showing up at Gary’s apartment like a schmuck without calling or anything? Not a damn clue.

Except he’d just rang the doorbell and was leaning against the doorframe, and he heard the footsteps approaching the door and then it swung open.

“Sorry, my delivery already came, you guys must have the wrong place ag- oh,” Gary cut himself off, biting his lip and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked halfway through starting to unwind after work, tie undone around his neck and his jacket off, eyes big behind his glasses. “Uhh- hi.”

It was easy to adopt the charming smile and lean in closer to him. “Evening, squire.”

“Hi,” Gary said again, obviously surprised to see him. “I - what’s up?”

“Wanted to say thanks for the thank-you basket, don’t got a phone, after all.”

“...oh,” Gary said, then brightens. “Oh, I - ordered way too much Chinese food and was just gonna watch Twilight Zone episodes, you can - come in.”

All he was going to do was say a thank-you, something he already didn’t say very often, and just leave after that and get drunk at the nearest- “Sure thing, squire.”

Gary smiled at that, looking equal parts excited and surprised. “Great!” He opened the door wider and John walked in, shutting the door behind him. He turned to say that _this won’t work, I’m sorry, you’re just going to get hurt and I don’t want you put through anything like that ev-_

All of those thoughts were lost in his mind before he could speak them because Gary was pulling him in close by the tie and then kissing him. Instead of even trying to remember what he came here for, he was instead cupping the sides of his cheeks and kissing him back, deepening it further until the only things he could think of were the tastes of cinnamon and ginger and Gary’s pulse soft but steady under his touch.

They pulled away for air and Gary’s voice was like his pulse. “Thank you,” he said quietly, not even specifying what for, then gesturing towards the living room. “I’m, uh, having dinner in there, if you - still want to.”

“Anything you want, love.”

The nickname didn’t register for him until he was sitting on the couch with a carton of kung pao chicken and Rod Sterling droning, and then it hit him like a goddamn rock.

Fine, he could handle an episode or two, free dinner, no problem.

At three episodes in, John pretended to pay attention to the screen in an attempt to not pay attention to Gary ‘accidentally’ brushing against him three straight times.

Four episodes in, John stopped pretending to pay attention to the screen.

By episode five of the marathon, he was on top of him with his mouth on his neck and waving his hand at the screen with a quick spell to shut Rod Sterling the hell up, and after finally accomplishing that goal he gave the rest of his attention back to Gary.

Any thought of leaving was gone.

It wasn’t until his coat and both of their ties were on the floor, Gary moving out from where he ended up in his lap, that his mind started to come back into focus. Currently, he was focusing on the man in front of him shoving his glasses back up on his nose and pulling at his hand.

“Hey,” Gary was saying softly. “We can- I mean- I want to-”

John let out a soft laugh, knowing he should get up and leave right now before he gets any deeper, and started to vocalize that when Gary cut him off.

“Listen, I - I totally get that serious - stuff isn’t your thing, totally get that, just - you know, that doesn't mean that you can’t - WE can’t-” he shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Go on, take your time, love,” John said, reassuring in the way he - really only was with him. Gary ducked his head again in the way that was too damn sweet.

“I mean,” he continued, voice even softer. “I - just want to know why you - even do this, with me.”

John doesn’t even try to find a snarky remark, just tilts his head down by the chin and looks in his eyes, and is nearly horrified with himself when the words escape his lips: “i like you, love. Hell of a lot, too.”

“Really?”

“Hell, Gary, damn near ended up there to get you back out. First one I’ve met that came up with his own exorcism,” he said, his usual grin coming back and Gary finally laughed. God, he’d missed that sound and hadn’t even realized it. “Bloody fuckin’ brilliant.”

Gary laughed in that dorky way again, smiling and pulling John up to his feet. “Soooo, does that mean-”

“Said it when I came in love, anything you want.”

Gary breathed out all at once. “Thank god, my soul actually left my body before I had sex for the first time, and like - literally, could have done this day one, you know, would’ve agreed.”

For what felt like the first time in a long, long time, John laughed and it wasn’t a way to cover what he really felt. “Really, now? How’s that?”

Gary shrugged, still smiling a little. “Because you - listened to me.”

This time, John returned the smile in full. He really did feel a bit of the light shining out of Gary’s face, and for the first time in another long while, he accepted it.

So he squeezed Gary’s hand just once. “Lead the way, love.”

 

 

Ava rolled her eyes as Gary’s phone was finally answered the next morning. “Gary, THERE you are, I’ve called twice.”

“Hmm, morning.”

“Are you still asleep?” she asked incredulously, Nate looking surprised from where he was spying over his paperwork at her desk.

“....uhhhhh, yeah. Sick.”

“Oh my god, are you feeling okay?”

“....just, uh, you know. A day, you know? I’ll - be in tomorrow, I’ll be- fine. Yeah, yeah.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Gary, I don’t have your Y-17 forms due from last w-”

The phone was heard switching hands and Nate actually choked on his coffee when Constantine drawled, “Listen, pet, you and I might be getting on, now, but you’re interrupting my morning.” And the phone was hung up.

Ava was still holding her phone in one hand, the other hand covering her eyes. Nate wiped the coffee off his mouth. “So-”

“Remind me to tell Sara she won the bet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The demon mentioned in the fic is completely made up for my own purposes, it is not canon whatsoever. But, hope you still enjoyed!
> 
> Please, please leave all the comments and kudos you like! I love responding to them!
> 
> Come visit me and find ways to send me love and support (and coffees!!!) on [Tumblr](http://somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds.tumblr.com)!


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